


What We Couldn't See

by theworldisntours



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Dream SMP Ensemble Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Read, Sad, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-28 09:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30137394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldisntours/pseuds/theworldisntours
Summary: A bunch of Dream smp one-shots of things we couldn't see, such as Wilbur's last words to Phil, or a specific visit to Tommy in exile.I wrote this at 7 am please read it :D
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Notes :D

**Author's Note:**

> helloooOO

Hello!

You guys can request anything you wanna see! Uh I've already written the first chapter so you can see how my writing style is! I write mostly angst but I can see abt writing some fluff. NO SMUT I AM NOT COMFY WRITING THAT :DDD

I hope yall like it :D


	2. Kill me Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood and death!
> 
> Phil and Wilbur's final words after he kills him.

“Kill me, Phil. Kill me!” He begged, he begged and he begged. Reminded Phil of when he was a kid, he wished he was still a kid. Phil knew this world wasn’t the correct one to bring a kid into. That was something he should’ve taken into further consideration. Wilbur punched the wall, brought him back to the present. “Look at them! They all want you to.”

Phil looked out across the people, sure there were some faces that urged him to take the sword. His eyes connected with the young boys, he was silently begging him to spare Wilbur. He felt the sword weigh a bit heavier in his hand. 

“Y-you’re my son!” Phil threw the sword behind his back. His grip firm, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. Wilburs eyes darkened. The memories washed over Phil's head, trying to fill his brain with happy sickening waves. 

Another desperate cry for death escaped Wilbur’s mouth. Phil’s vision blurred, the lines of right and wrong erased themselves. His hands worked for themselves, what brought him back was the look of Wilburs face when the sword went through his chest. 

People were screaming from below them, the blood drowned them out. Phil looked out into the crowd, searching for those familiar eyes. Tommy locked eyes with him, tears welling up. He looked away and ran. 

“Phil,” Wilbur mumbled. “Can you lay me down?” Phil looked over at the boy, nodded slowly, and laid him down. Wilbur bit back the pain, muffling all his cries. The sword was still through his chest. 

“Will, I’m so sorry.” He whispered. He grabbed Wilbur’s hand, making sure he knew he was there. Wilbur coughed a little bit, the pain was probably getting too hard to deal with now. 

“There’s no reason to be sorry.” He responded. Phil felt the tears prick at the sides of his eyes, his son. The son he raised, the son he killed. “It’s dark.”   
“You were always scared of the dark.” Phil laughed a little. Remembering Wilbur crying at night over the darkness of his room. 

“Can you...hold me?” He asked the small request. It just showed how small he felt. Phil nodded slightly and wrapped his arms around the boy. The blood seeped onto his shirt, not bothering Phil in the slightest. 

“Remember when you were a kid? You used to run around screaming your head off about wanting to-” 

“Be a leader?” Wilbur finished the sentence. “I got so into it! Mapping out my nation, getting my friends to be citizens.” He laughed remembering it all. Phil held back his tears, for Wilbur’s sake. “Was I a good leader?”   
Phil paused for a moment, carefully considering his options. “Yes.” He finally told him. “You were one of the best.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Phil. I know I wasn’t.” He laughed bitterly. Phil’s heart ached, he knew Wilbur longed to be a great leader. Remembered throughout history. Sadly this world wasn’t built for people like that, people like Wilbur. Things went a little quiet. Phil’s mind wandered, further and further away. 

_ “Dad!” Wilbur was running around, probably about to fall and scrape his knees. Phil watched him roll around on the grass of the front lawn. A smile plastered across his face.  _

_ “Slow down Will, you're going to hurt yourself.”  _

_ “No, I won’t!” Wilbur laughed, before taking a stumble and scratching his arm. He looked at the scrape, then at Phil.  _

_ “Wilbur, I told you!” Phil laughed and went to go get the first aid kit. He was blinded by child ignorance, having fun, jumping around. Childhood was perfect.  _

_ When Phil came back out Wilbur was already running again. He stopped him and started wrapping the bandage around his arm.  _

_ “I want to grow old like you.” He laughed.  _

_ “I’m not that old.” Phil reminded him.  _

_ “Sure you're not. I want to grow old, and have a son, and have a nation! I want to be president of the world.”  _

_ “You can do all those things when you’re a little bit older.” Phil ruffled his hair.  _

_ “I’ll be the best leader!”  _ _   
  
_

Wilbur coughed. “Phil, you’re crying.” Phil snapped back to reality. He looked down at Wilbur, a thin line of blood was running from his mouth. 

“Oh, oh sorry.” Phil wiped away a tear from his cheek. Wilbur winced a little bit as he moved, Phil held his hand. Trying to ease the pain. 

“I’ll be dead in a few minutes. You won’t have to worry about your failure of a son.” Wilbur told him, almost happily, almost like that was something he thought to be true. Phil looked down at Wilbur, held him a little bit tighter. 

“Why would I think of you as a failure. You accomplished everything you wanted in life. I think you’re amazing.” Phil bit down on his words, securing them in his mouth. Trying to desperately not cry.

“I don’t want to be your failure.” He whispered. A sob came from his mouth, a tear ran down his cheek. “I don’t want to be your failure.”   
Your failure. Not a failure. He didn’t want to fail Phil, and yet he thought he did. He cried, painfully cried, a failure. 

“Will...Will please stop crying.” Phil begged, the sound of it hurting him. “It’s okay, you aren’t a failure. You will never be a failure to me. You weren’t my failure.” Wilbur took a deep breath, calmed down his cries. 

“Fundy...my son.” Wilbur’s eyes got frantic. “Where is my son?”   
“He-he isn’t here Will,” Phil told him. 

“Oh….is he safe?” Wilbur asked. 

“Yes,” Phil promised, not knowing if it was true or not. He just wanted to calm him down, make his last moments of life nice. Wilbur wanted to make it miserable. 

He coughed again, blood fell from his mouth. There were explosions outside. Phil paid no mind to it, he was here with Wilbur. What happened outside didn’t matter to him. 

“I accomplished all my goals.” Wilbur sighed. “I just failed all of them as well.”

“You will be remembered as great.”   
“I will be remembered as crazy.” He mumbled. Then he started to hum, the tune of a song Phil didn’t know. The tune of his own song, one he walked the Earth with. 

He stopped. “Dad.” His voice got soft. He never called Phil dad, not since he was a kid. Not since he was young. Phil looked down at his son, and all he saw was the smiling boy he once raised. The happy boy with dreams, the boy who scraped his knees, the boy who ran around without a care in the world. 

“Son.”   
“I love you dad.”   
“I love you too son.” 

Wilbur’s eyes fluttered shut. His breathing slowed, slowed, stopped. He was gone. “Wilbur?” Phil tightened his grip on Wilbur’s hand. “He’s gone.” 

The cry he had been holding in came up. Through his veins, through his heart, his lungs, and spine. It released in a painful scream, and salty tears.

He screamed for his son, for the country, he screamed for Wilbur. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yobby for the idea! I hope yall like it!

Tommy came stumbling into Snowchester, right on time. It was a good thing I didn’t sign that letter with my name, or he would probably not have shown up. His eyes darted around before finally settling on me. I leaned against the wall, anger in my skin. 

“Oh thank god. I thought it was Tubbo with something important. Good to know it’s just you.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Just me. That’s all I was to him, just me. 

“This is important,” I told him. “Incredibly important.” 

“Can we do this later Jack? I’m sort of busy.” He mumbled. Already looking for a way out, makes me angry. 

“No, we can’t.” 

“Jack I have-”   
“Sit the fuck down Tommy! Or I will get Dream here to kill you again!” I snapped. Tommy looked at me, his face distorted with fear. 

“Don’t you ever mention that to me again?”   
“I’ll mention whatever I want.” I extended my hand to a chair, inviting him to sit down. He shakily sat down, it was my time. 

“Fine, I'm here, what do you want Jack?” He didn’t even know. Of course, he didn’t he never did. Never knew anything, he was the most useless kid I could see. 

“Tommy I hope you know I don’t like you. We aren’t friends. This isn’t L’manburg anymore! This is a fucking hell hole and your the cause of it.” 

Tommy looked at me, confused. “I don’t know what you're saying.” He finally mumbled. I rolled my eyes, annoyance starting to get to me. 

“How! How do you not understand what I’m saying! I literally tried to kill you! I made an entire nuclear program, just to watch you die.” I went on and on. “You have no respect for me! No understanding! You are just a dumb kid who thinks he is the hero, the protagonist of a story! Well, this isn't a story Tommy, this is real life, and to me, you are the villain. You are the bad guy.” Something changed with Tommy, he let his shoulders drop. 

“The bad guy?” He repeated. “I don’t want to be the bad guy.”   
“Well fuck that! You already are! You know maybe I hated that Dream stole the kill from me, but he sure as hell did one thing right. I thought of you as a friend, one of my closest friends. We built a nation together! A fucking nation! You ruined that too somehow!”   
“I didn’t ruin shit! I-I gave up everything for L’manburg, gave up my discs, gave up my role as president.”   
“That doesn’t make you good Tommy. That makes you an idiot! Maybe it was true, maybe I’m being crazy.”  
“You are! You’re being insane! You’re gonna ruin everything!”   
“I’m gonna ruin everything? Look at yourself! I was so careful, I was your friend, I was your enemy. I shaped my own world and you destroyed it. Every thought to appreciate anyone? You know maybe say thank you for once?”   
“I was in fucking exile! You don’t know what happened there. It was like hell, my life was like hell!”    
“Well, my life is hell now!” 

“No no, because you don’t understand anything! You have gone mad, you are the bad guy!” He shouted. 

“So what if I am? We both are I guess.”   
“I’m not the bad guy Wilbur!” He screamed. The room went quiet, the cold air froze my skin. Wilbur. He called me Wilbur. “Jack. I meant Jack.”   
“You think I’m like Wilbur?”   
“No, no. I meant like, you’re acting like- you reminded me.” He stammered. 

“I’m nothing like fucking Wilbur. You are. You’re just like Wilbur.” I said. Maybe it was harsh, I didn’t care. Tommy backed up, sat down, hands on his head. He was breathing heavily, maybe I was supposed to apologize? I wasn’t sorry though. 

“Jack.” He whispered. I could hardly hear him. “I’m proud of you. I’ll never be like Wilbur, and you won’t either. We aren’t the bad guys.”   
I sat down in the chair. The adrenaline is leaving my body. Everything I just said hit me, everything Tommy said hit harder. The last line rang in my head. 

“You’re right Tommy. We aren’t the bad guys.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a good day! Leave request in the comments :>>

**Author's Note:**

> goodbyeeeeE


End file.
